


Remus Lupin one shots

by revengingbarnes



Series: Remus Lupin One Shots [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Imagines, Implied Sexual Content, Marauders' Era, one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 15:43:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengingbarnes/pseuds/revengingbarnes
Summary: A collection of Remus Lupin one shots originally written for my Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

These one shots were all written for @gobletofweasley (now inactive) on Tumblr.


	2. Wolfsbane Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bottle of Wolfsbane Potion mysteriously appears every month. Remus doesn’t know who leaves it there.

Humming to yourself, you moved your fingers lightly and carefully over the assortment of flowers, the colours different yet coordinated in a beautiful way that made them pleasing to the eye. You added one more stem of myrtle carefully towards the back, smiling at how a simple twinge of green brought the whole thing together. Satisfied, you tied a shimmering silver ribbon to the base. Picking up the finished product, you carried it down one of the two small aisles, placing it next to the fresh piles of beautifully decorated bouquets.

A ding from the bell on the glass door startled you, making you look up with surprise and a thrill of excitement.  _Your first customer._

Using quick but silent steps, you moved to the main counter, patting down your hair and shirt. Taking a deep breath, you pulled a smile on your face.

It was a young man, looking in his early 20s, hair as bright as the loveliest orange tulips. As he walked towards you, your heartbeat sped up. This man was  _beautiful._

There was something in his eyes, warm and brown, that reminded you of the sweet smelling earth of your mother’s home where you grew your flowers, something in his flushed face, resembling the most subtle and modest pink Dahlias. It took your breath away.

It was only when he stepped up right across from you, merely two feet away, that his peculiarities became clearer.

Something was wrong.

It was all over his face. The dark, heavy bags under his eyes, the disheveled state of his hair, and his red rimmed lids. He had been crying.

Your throat dried as your eyebrows furrowed. Despite not knowing anything about this intriguing stranger, you wanted to wrap him into your arms, ask him of his troubles and comfort him. He looked so tired, exhausted to the point that it confused you why he was here. You wanted to help him so badly, it was freaking you out.

Clearing your throat when you realized you’d been staring too long for it to be polite, you allowed an easy smile to stretch on your face. “Good morning, sir. How may I help you?”

He smiled, though it only looked painful and slightly overdone. Your heart squeezed at the sight but you didn’t budge.

“Good morning. I saw you setting up a few days ago. I wanted to come by and say hi. And, well, also ask for something but that’s a topic for later. So… hi.”

You couldn’t help the giddy grin spreading on your face.

“Hi.”

He smiled. It was easier this time, though only slightly. He shuffled his feet.

“I was… I wanted flowers actually. But I don’t know what kind to get. They all have meanings, right? The flowers?”

You nodded, excited to share your knowledge. “Yes, they do! That’s what makes them so beautiful, they are so much more than just their superficial beauty.” You walked around the counter towards the aisle, pointing to the simple white bouquet at the very start. “Daisies, for example. They signify pure love and innocence, which is quite understandable considering their plain but beautiful appearance. There are some, however, that can give multiple meanings.” You brushed a soft finger over some bright yellow flowers. “Daffodils when given in multiple numbers show joy and happiness. But a lone daffodil symbolizes misfortune.” You blinked, looking back at the tall stranger.

“I’m- so sorry… I was rambling. That was very unprofessional.” You could feel the red hot of your face, burning your cheeks and neck.

The man shook his head, a small, amused smile on his lips. “Don’t be. It’s very interesting. I can understand why you’re so passionate about it.”

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter. “Thank you…”

“George.” The ginger supplied. “George Weasley.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You replied. “What…” You felt your embarrassment again. “What kind of flowers would you like?”

George shook his head. “I think I’d like to know more about them before I get them. Do you think you could recommend something? A book, maybe?”

You nodded vigorously. “Oh yes! Here.” You bustled over to the counter, hands shaking slightly due to your nerves. You pulled out a small booklet from the bottom drawer and handed it to George.

“This is a basic guide to most flowers and their comprehensive meanings.” George looked interestingly at the cover.

“This is perfect. How much?” He reached into his pockets. You shook your head.

“No, no, it’s not for sale! Keep it.”

George raised an eyebrow. “I can’t just take this.”

You waved a hand. “You can give it back when you’re done, if that makes you feel better.”

George smiled and pocketed the small book. “Thank you so much.”

You smiled back, feeling your heart flutter. “It’s no big deal.”

George moved to the door, looking at you. “I’ll be back.”

“You’re most welcome to, at any time.” You replied, feeling your cheeks flush again. There was a ding and then he was gone, leaving you thinking about your brief and strange encounter.

* * *

True to his word, George returned two days later. He held the book in his hand, and if it were possible, he looked even more exhausted than before. You didn’t understand why, he seemed so bright, but it felt like there was something holding him down.

“I know which ones to get.” His tone was slightly lighter, more focused. He opened to book, flipping the pages. He pointed at a picture. “These. _Anemone_.”

You raised an eyebrow. Anemone? What a strange choice. But you didn’t question it, rather, you led George to the shelves along the wall, picking up a small assortment of Anemones paired with Ivy.

George smiled at the beautiful delicate purple bouquet, running his hand over the petals.

“It’s perfect.” He whispered, as if to himself. “How much?”

He left soon after paying. And you didn’t even feel excited about your fourteenth sale (you were keeping count, it was an exciting thing). You were just confused.

Anemones had two meanings. They either meant  _anticipation_ for something beautiful, and they also symbolized a fading sense of hope. Your heart lurched at the thought of George buying the flowers for the second reason. But suddenly, his weary appearance made much more sense.

 _You’re being paranoid Y/N. He probably didn’t have that meaning in mind_. But you knew deep down what the truth was. You shook your head.  _Why do you care, anyway? Who is he to you?_

Your subconscious, however, couldn’t stop you thinking about George for the rest of the day.

George came at the same time the next day, another flower name on the tip of his tongue.

“I’d like some white chrysanthemums.” He said, smiling at you. But that did nothing to appease your worry.

White chrysanthemums were almost infamously known for symbolizing death, grief and mourning.

Your heart lurched at the thought, but it didn’t surprise you. The Battle of Hogwarts was only about two months old. It was a big possibility that George had lost someone, as had many people in Britain. Being from America and having moved only a month ago, you had only heard about the battle, about the extensive loss of life. You felt sympathy wash over you as you quickly arranged a bouquet of beautiful white chrysanthemums for George.

You were right about why he was buying flowers.

George’s visits became part of a routine from then on, but it was never a happy event. Everyday, he would buy a different type of flower, all relating to loss and grief, all pertaining to the death of a loved one.

Lilies, symbolizing peace for a departed soul. Gladiolis and carnations, both showing remembrance. Camellias, meaning longing. It was all so clear, and you could see that George didn’t realize he was unconsciously revealing his heart to you. You respected his privacy on the matter, and you never asked about it. You just provided him what he wanted, putting extra effort and care into what you made for him. He appreciated it dearly, paid extra and generously, despite your insistence on giving them to him for free. It was a small system you both had going on.

Eventually, George began to visit without the book, and more than once a day. He would talk to you about the bouquets you made, and it amused you how much he had grown to love the beauty of nature’s most wonderful creation. You cherished these moments dearly, it almost gave you a glimpse of what George would be like if it weren’t for the immense grief settled on his shoulders.

“Did you know that different colours of Carnations have different meanings?” He said, leaning against the counter as he watched you wrap the flowers.

“Do they?” You mused, a smile playing on your lips. Of course you knew that, but watching him tell you as if it were new information was too adorable to not go along with. George nodded as he looked at you work.

“Red carnation symbolizes love, pride and admiration; a pink carnation symbolizes the love of a mother; a purple carnation symbolizes capriciousness; a yellow carnation symbolizes disdain, rejection or disappointment; while a white carnation symbolizes innocence and pure love. A striped carnation conveys refusal.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Blimey, George. Did you memorize that book?”

George flushed as red as his hair. “It’s a nice concept…”

You patted his arm, laughing slightly. “I know, I didn’t mean it as an attack.” You started adding the final greens.

“Did you know that there are at least 20 different types of greens and filler flowers commonly used in bouquets? And that apart from the flowers, they all have meanings as well?”

George nodded, smiling. “Yes, it was in chapter 34.”

You laughed, picking up the bouquet and handing it to him. He smiled at it, before wandering down the aisles to look for a place to put it. It was a simple and unsaid harmony between you two. You didn’t know how it happened, but you loved it. You loved him.

Yes, you loved George Weasley. Somehow, over the last two months, George had become an important part of your life. From his brilliantly keen interest in flowers, to his worrying selection of them, to his wonderful words and sweet smile, George Weasley had captured your heart. You considered him a close friend, and you were sure he did the same. But not once did he mention why he bought the flowers that he did buy.

You had hinted more than once at it, but he would shut down before you could directly ask him, and you’d let the topic drop. You wouldn’t ever pressure him, it was his story to tell. But you were worried for him, and you didn’t know how to tell him that.

Until you did.

It was a cold Friday evening, and you were ready to close up. George hadn’t shown up, and you were just starting to worry why when the bell rang, along with the telltale shuffling footsteps that could belong to only him.

“Hey…” Your words died in your throat upon one look at him. His eyes were sunken beyond what was usual for him, eyes red and face blotches with tears. With a gasp, you moved closer to him, unthinkingly wrapping your arms around him.

He didn’t hesitate to hug back, holding you so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe. But you didn’t budge. You hugged back just as hard, running a hand through his hair as his shoulders shook.

“It was my brother.” His voice was muffled, strangled. “My twin. He died in the Battle of Hogwarts.”

Your chest tightened at the confession, tears brimming your own eyes.

“Oh George…” Impulsively, you placed kisses on his temple, his hair, hugging him even closer despite there already being no space between you two.

“He left.” George continued, face still buried in your shoulder. “He left, and he took me along with him. I'm… not me anymore. I’m not me without him. I can’t even-” He choked on a sob. “I can’t even look into a mirror. All I see is him looking back at me. It haunts me.”

You squeezed George’s shoulders, making him stop speaking and continue crying into your shoulder. You held him, knowing it was the only thing you could do; be there for him.

It was an immeasurably long time later that you pulled away, softly letting your fingers skim over George’s cheeks, wiping the tears. You didn’t think, _just like every other action you had done tonight_ , and you placed kisses on his cheeks. George stared at you with a strange intensity in his eyes, penetrating outward through his pain. You intertwined your fingers with his hand, pulling him with you through the aisles of flowers, letting their sweet scent wash over both of you.

As you moved through them, you allowed your free hand to pull out flowers of different kinds, handing them to George.

Blue irises,  _faith and hope_ ; Red roses,  _rebirth and new beginnings_ ; Tulips, self  _forgiveness_ ; Forget-me-nots,  _loving memories_ ; Protea,  _courage and strength of character._

You reached the end of the aisle, turning to look at George. He held all the flowers in his hand tightly, a look of strange gratitude on his face, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.

Hesitating, you let go of his hand which you were holding, placing a single branch of pink Azalea in his hand.

_I’m in love with you._

George stared at the lone flower, turning it over in his hand, an unreadable look on his face. Then, as if in slow motion, the rest of the flowers in his other hand fell, and it reached up to cup your cheek. George leaned forward, placing his lips on yours.

You didn’t think as you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. His arms encircled you, pulling your body flush against his. His lips moved over yours, longingly, desperately, tongue peeking out to caress your bottom lip. You kissed him back just as eagerly, yearning for his touch even though it was all over you, everywhere. You put every emotion into that kiss, wanting George to know what he meant to you, what you wanted to mean to him.

When you broke apart, your breaths were heavy, lips brushing against each other’s. He reached up, placing the single pink Azalea behind your ear. You smiled at him, and he smiled back, relaxed and easy, not forced. You could still see the pain hidden under his eyes, the longing for his brother, the missing part that had died with him. It was something that would take a long time to heal, if it did heal at all. But you were willing to be there every step of the way, to help him learn to live with it, to make it a little better to survive. To not just exist, but live as well.

There were no words. There were never any words needed with him. You had an entire shop worth of flowers to tell him exactly how you felt.


	3. Loved To Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader loves watching Remus.

You loved to watch Remus Lupin. **  
**

It sounded creepy when put like that, but you loved him so you let it pass. Your heart ached for him even though you had him. His happiness made you happy and his tears made you cry as well. Remus was yours, and you liked to look at him again and again, take in his serene appearance and remind yourself that he’s all yours.

You loved to watch Remus, especially when he was reading. You loved how passionate he was about every Muggle book he read. About the almost impossible happenings in said books that he took so seriously. You loved watching him as his eyes moved rapidly over the pages, not blinking and wide open. You watched him bite his lip -it made you feel all kinds of things- when he was worried for a character’s fate. In more intense scenes, he would bite his nails unconsciously, body rigid as he waited for the plot to develop.

Everything happening in the book reflected on his face, a myriad of emotions and mannerisms. Remus was like a book himself; a book that you loved to read.

Here he was now, in front of a blazing fire in the Gryffindor common room. The windows were fogged, but you could still see the snow falling outside. You and Remus were lounging on the sofa under at least three blankets. Of course, Remus didn’t need them; he was like a furnace. The blankets were for you, since you felt cold very severely. Even now, your feet were pressed up against Remus’s thigh (“Stop! Your feet are so cold!” he whined), and your head was on his shoulder. He was reading a book for the first time that week, since Prefect duties had kept him very busy. You knew he was excited to get back to it so you didn’t interrupt. You didn’t mind the silence. You loved this peaceful side of Remus, the one which didn’t reflect mischief during his pranks or worry during exams. He was at his happiest right now, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

The corner of your lip twisted up in a smirk as you saw Remus slowly flush red and fidget. You knew he could feel you staring, but you didn’t break your gaze.

“Stop staring,” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off the book. You didn’t listen to his words and continued to look at Remus, trying to stifle laughter as he grew increasingly nervous.

“Y/N, stop.” He said again. Still, he didn’t look at you.

“Why?” You whispered. “Am I making you nervous, _Moony_?”

He shivered as your breath tickled his neck. Clearing his throat, he pulled the book closer, almost burying his nose in it. You giggled and moved it away, and finally, he looked at you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He said, eyes shifting between yours.

“Like what?”

Remus seemed to struggle with his words. “Like… like I'm… y’know..” He fidgeted again. “Like the.. Like you’re-”

“Like the Sun shines out of your ass?” You supplied helpfully.

He let out a laugh and sighed. “Yeah… like I’m your entire world.”

You gave him a small smile. “Right on point, Lupin. You  _are_  my entire world.”

Remus was frowning now, an almost mournful look on his face. “I don’t deserve that.”

You stayed silent for a beat, staring into his eyes.

“We’ve had this discussion before, Rem. You’re not lesser than anyone in any way. I love you, so so much. You deserve the world, and I intend to give you as much of it as I can. You hear me?  _I love you_.”

Remus was still looking at you, although this time, he had a barely visible sheen of wetness in his eyes. He leaned forward, cupping your face with his hands and pulling you in for a hard kiss. His lips moved desperately against yours, trying to put all his gratitude, all his emotions into the kiss. And you understood. Every word of it.

The kisses grew softer, until it decelerated to soft pecks and hands gently caressing each other’s exposed skin.

He broke it off, leaning his head into your shoulder, pulling you to him tightly by the waist. His eyes scanned your face, gaze so intense you had to stop yourself from fidgeting under it.

“I love you, too.” his voice broke towards the end and you squeezed his shoulders, indicating that you understood.

You loved to watch Remus Lupin, but you loved it more when he watched you.


	4. Sugar Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus eats too much chocolate. The reader has to deal with the consequences.

“You know, Remus is really not enjoying this ‘Operation Sugar Control’.” James said, letting the snitch go and grabbing it again when it got too far. You snorted, not lifting your head from your essay.

“Of course he doesn’t like it. When was the last time he was allowed to eat only half a chocolate bar a day?”

James leaned back on the two back legs of his chair, placing his feet on the table, ignoring the hiss from Madam Pince. You stifled a laugh.

“I kind of felt bad for the guy when you purged his room. I mean, that’s all the chocolate he owned. For someone who loves it so much, had to be hard when you took it all away.”

You lifted your head up, looking past James’ feet and at his face. “It was for his own good, James. That amount of chocolate could have fed the entire country for a year. It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I know. I don’t blame you.” James retaliated. “I’m just saying, I can’t help but feel bad for him.”

You shrugged. “It’s okay, though. He’s doing fine without it, except for all the whining. I’m glad you got rid of it.”

James stared at you, the snitch struggling in his hand. “….. I had to get rid of it?”

You stared back, taking in his expression. “Uh, yeah… that’s what I asked you to do.”

James’ face turned panicky, filling you with horror. “James? What did you do with the chocolates?”

James cleared his throat and looked anywhere but your eyes. His voice was barely audible. “I hid it.”

“You what?” You screeched. “You  _hid_ them? James! I specifically asked you to get rid of them! You know Remus can find anything at any place!”

“I couldn’t just ‘get rid of’ _that_  much chocolate.” James retorted almost indignantly.

“Where did you hide it?” You asked, jumping up at your sudden realization.

James seemed to catch on to what you were thinking, standing up after you. He seized your books and started shoving them precariously into you bag.

“James?”

He looked up guiltily. “Let’s just say that I think Remus might have found them.”

Before you could ask what he meant, James shouldered your bag, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the library.

“James?” You called, trying to slow him down. “James, I don’t understand. Where did you hide them?”

James didn’t break his step. He continued dragging you quickly to the Gryffindor tower. “My dorm, of course. Under my bed with the Invisibility Cloak over it. There’s just one problem…”

“And what is that?” You asked breathlessly. “And Merlin, would you  _slow down_?”

“I needed the Invisibility Cloak yesterday…”

You gasped. “And you left the chocolates there? In the open like _that_?” You shook your hand out of James’ grip, breaking into a full run. “James, you idiot! Hurry up!”

* * *

You yelped, dodging the book you saw hurtling towards your head. It hit the wall behind you and fell to the ground. You turned your attention back to the room.

It was a mess. Shiny silver chocolate wrappers were scattered around the floor. Clothes and books were strewn all over the bed, some spilling onto the floor. Over the mountain of belongings, you saw a mop of brown hair.

“Remus? What are you doing?”

Remus seemed to jump a mile at your voice. His face broke out into a huge grin at the sight of you and James.

“Y/N! Look, I’m rearranging my room! I decided to give it a whole new look.”

“You mean  _our_  room?” James said from behind you. You continued to stare at all the crumpled up wrappers on the floor.

“Remus, mate, it’s nearly lights out. Why…. the _fuck_ ….. are you rearranging our room at a time like this? And where are my bed sheets?!” James’ voice turned to a screech towards the end, moving towards his bed.

“I’m giving my room a makeover, James. You’re getting new bedsheets!”

“Remus, mate,  **are you drunk?** ”

You groaned, catching James’ attention. Remus got back to throwing books and clothes on his bed.

“He’s not drunk. He’s on a sugar rush.”

James blinked. “On a what?”

“Sugar rush. He’s all hyper. He’s trying to use up that energy now.”

James stared at Remus as he jumped up and down where he stood, apparently not able to stand still. “He’s freaking me out.”

You snorted. “Get out of here. I can handle this.”

James gave Remus one last look before leaving the dormitory, closing the door behind him. You turned to Remus.

His face was flushed, probably from all the running and jumping he had been doing. Stifling a laugh, you moved over to where he stood. He was in the middle of folding his jumper for the third time, hands too shaky to get it right.

“Remus. Maybe you should clean this mess up.”

Remus shook his head. “I’m redecorating.”

You sighed. “What do your clothes have to do with redecorating?”

Remus paused for a second, hand going up to scratch his head. Shrugging, he went back to his jumper. “I don’t know. But I’m going to figure it out later.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Remus moved away from his bed, apparently tired of the jumper and his clothes. You couldn’t help the endearing smile that took over your face as you watched him putter around the room, humming shrilly to himself and occasionally breaking into a run or a jump. You knew you could only wait for it to go down. He just had to move around enough to exhaust himself and go to sleep.

A bang brought you back to reality. Remus had dumped all the contents of his trunk on his bed to join everything else on there. Clothes and books were now falling off it and onto the floor.

“Remus! Why’d you do that? Don’t-” You paused. “ **Is that- is that my bra?** ”

It took two hours and all your strength to finally get Remus to help you clear everything away. By the end of it, the sugar seemed to have finally worn off, leaving him very tired and sleepy. Your new struggle was now getting him into bed.

“Remus,” you tugged. He didn’t budge from where he was sprawled on the floor. “Babe, we have to at least get you into bed.”

Remus groaned, eyes halfway closed. “M’comfortable.” He mumbled.

You tried to suppress your smile but failed. “I’m sure the floor is not as comfortable as your bed, hon.” You gave Remus another tug. You shrieked when Remus tugged back. Losing your balance, you fell on top of him. He gave a breathless huff but was otherwise unaffected, wrapping his arms around you. You struggled against him, ultimately giving up. His arms were like iron bands around you.

You snuggled into him and sighed. He wasn’t going to move, so you might as well relax.

You smiled at the snores now coming from Remus’s mouth, burying your face into his chest and closing your eyes.

He was an idiot. But he was your idiot.


	5. Waste The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus knows if he waits for too long, he might lose her completely.

“Moony, stop staring.”

Remus blinked, turning to look at James. “I’m not-”

He stopped when James gave him a look. Then, he sighed.

“Okay, so maybe I’m staring. Big deal. She’s gorgeous. She deserves to be stared at.”

“Maybe you should do more than just stare, mate.”

Remus sighed and dropped his head in his arms where they rested on the table. “You know I can’t, Prongs.”

“Of course you can. You just won’t do it because you’re too scared.”

Remus shot James a middle finger without looking up. “Can you please mind your own business? I don’t see you and Evans dating.”

James nudged Remus. “Excuse you, I ask her out every day.”

Remus snorted. “And get rejected every time.”

“At least I won’t regret not trying in a couple of years.”

Remus looked up then, watching James shovel more pudding into his plate. Sirius and Peter were in detention, and he wasn’t feeling hungry.

“You know why I keep her out of this, James. She can’t be involved in me. Not if she wants a happy, worry-free life.”

James stared at him, an incredulous look on his face. “Has it ever occured to you that she might not give a single flying fuck about your furry little problem?”

“But  _I_ give a single flying fuck about my furry little problem.”

James sighed and started eating. “You’re a hopeless case, Moony. But I’m telling you, you’re wasting time. We have a war going on. Who knows how long any of us have? Better be rejected than regret never telling her and living with endless  _what ifs_ in your mind.”

Remus stared at James as he effectively ended the conversation, but gave him a lot to think about. He knew James was right. One day, you would walk away and he’d never see you again. Then he would have to live with the fact that he could have had you, yet he didn’t.

The insecure part of him was taking over him the longer he sat there, so he knew he had to move. Without saying a word, he stood up and walked to the other end of the table. He watched as you laughed at something Alice was saying, feeling his heart skip. Lily raised an eyebrow as he stopped behind you and tapped your shoulder. You turned around, surprised to see him.

“Remus! Hi.”

Remus smiled, feeling his heart thud. “Mind if I talk to you, Y/N? In private?”

He watched as you stood up hesitantly, waving to your friends and following him to the Entrance Hall. Turning around, Remus saw James staring at him, mouth full and genuinely surprised. He grinned big when their eyes met and sent him an exaggerated thumbs up, making him snort. He then turned to face you.

You were looking at him expectantly, making him clear his throat and shuffle his feet.

“I hope everything is okay.” You said, letting out a nervous laugh.

Remus laughed with you. “Yes, yeah.. everything is fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay, sure.”

“I-” Remus stopped. He looked at you as you watched him with a waiting expression, eyes wide open and lips holding a small smile. _You were so beautiful…_

“Earth to Remus?” He blinked when a hand waved in front of him. He heard you laugh and turned bright red.

“You zoned out for a moment there, hun.” You said, making him fidget with his hands and hunch on himself.

“You know what? Never mind. It’s a stupid idea.” He took a few steps back.

“Hey, no.” You said, grabbing his arm before he could walk further away. “It’s okay. I’m sure it’s not stupid, tell me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Remus,” your voice was firm. “Just tell me.”

Remus sighed. “It’s harder than you think, okay? I can’t believe I dragged you all the way out here just to ask you out. But it’s hard, Y/N, dammit! Here I am, worried and scared that you won’t ever like me back, but also scared that if I don’t tell you, I’ll regret it as long as I live.” He chuckled, almost hysterical. “And I’m doing it with a slim chance that you might like me, and if that’s true then we can be together instead of wasting time-”

“Remus.”

“But who knows? I mean, you’re you, and you’re fucking _beautiful_ and then there’s me-”

“Remus-”

“Who’s got nothing but a million problems and worries-”

“REMUS JOHN LUPIN!”

Remus stopped, shocked. His breath was coming out quick and Y/N was right in front of him, face inches from his. He flushed at the proximity, gulping.

“I know that you’re a werewolf.”

Remus’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

Y/N snorted then, giving him a look. “C’mon Remus. You disappear once every month for a week, with three people to help you, and return looking like someone ran you over with a lawn mower a hundred times. Now unless you’re a girl with an outrageously painful period, you’re a werewolf.” Y/N stopped. “Wait, you’re not a girl with an outrageously painful period, are you?”

Remus pulled a poker face. “You’re hilarious.”

Y/N giggled then, making Remus smile at the sound.

Y/N smiled cheekily at him, leaning forward to peck his lips. Remus blinked, caught off guard.

“W-what was that for?”

“What else did you expect after you confessed your undying love for me, Moony?”

Remus shrugged, face still red. “I don’t know. A gentle rejection? A slap in the face? Multiple stab wounds in the chest? You had a wide variety of options.”

You laughed and kissed him again, this time lingering for a few seconds. Remus let out a shaky sigh, eyes rolling in his head at the feeling. You pulled away again.

“So you like me?”

You feigned a puzzled look, tapping your chin in thought. “Well, I’m so confused as to what else my kisses could imply…”

Snorting, Remus wrapped an arm around you. Pulling you close, he planted his lips on yours again, longer and deeper this time. He felt you slump against him, felt your hands in his hair, tugging and sending chills down his spine. Involuntarily, a moan left him. Pulling away, you stared at each other, breaths mixing.

“For the record, it wasn’t stupid at all.”

Remus smiled and pecked your lips, then he took your hand and led you towards the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

Remus looked back, smile on his face. “Well, we don’t want to waste any more time, do we?”


End file.
